


gimme shelter

by misstaken



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: BAMF Women, Daemon Hunter Iris, F/M, Growing Up, May/December Relationship, Siblings, Slow Burn, Timeskip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 14:44:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10969401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misstaken/pseuds/misstaken
Summary: Sister, Lover, Daemon Hunter- or -How Iris Amicitia Learned To Stop Worrying and Start To Kick Ass, Take Names, and Figure It Out in the World Of RuinSpoilers through the beginning of Chapter 14.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I normally write with music playing to set the mood - this story has my favorite mix of all the ones I've had so far:  
> Iris - Rancid, Rise Against, Rage Against The Machine  
> Cor - Rolling Stones (especially the 1968-1972ish albums), The Doors  
> and "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls is pretty much perfect for the romantic bits.
> 
> This was written well before the Comrades DLC was released, so consider anything non-compliant with canon AU :)

Iris and Talcott stood at the end of the dock at Caem, waving furiously at King Regis’s old speedboat as it sailed away towards Accordo. Her arm was growing tired, but Talcott’s energy was unwavering and Iris didn’t want to leave him alone in his enthusiasm, so she continued to wave in spite of the numbness in her arm until the boat completely disappeared into the horizon. With their send-off complete, Talcott looked up at Iris with an expectant expression on his face. “What happens now, Iris?” Talcott asked. “Prince Noctis is going to get married in Accordo, right?”

“Right, he’s going to marry Lady Lunafreya, I’m sure, once all this Astral and Imperial business settles down. That was the plan from the start...he loves her very much.” She smiled at Talcott, which helped soothe the tiny lingering tremors in her heart and stomach when she thought about Noctis’s wedding. When Iris met the Prince as a child, she had hoped from the bottom of her heart that she would be the one to marry him; by the time she was a young teenager, she was aware that was not her destiny. Regardless, Iris had been angry that her father and Gladio wouldn’t allow her to accompany the group to Accordo for the wedding, even though she knew it would hurt a little bit to see him marrying someone else. While she had known for some time that her dream of being his wife was a fantasy, she had still hoped to be there to wish him well on the most important day of his life.

“So...are you going to get married someday?” Talcott asked, a blush coloring his cheeks. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked over his shoulder, squinting to see if the tiny speck of the Prince’s boat was visible on the water. “Cause you’re good at cooking and you’re really nice. You remind me of my mom,” he said, a bit of longing in his voice.

Iris laughed, ruffling the boy’s hair playfully. “What’s up with you all of a sudden, Talcott? Are you asking me to marry you?”

“No, no way!” Talcott stammered, his face red from his ears to the back of his neck. He glanced around nervously until he caught a glimpse of another person standing in the shadows by the docks. The man stepped forward and Iris straightened her posture when she saw that it was the Marshal. His presence was imposing and she and Talcott had both been taught to respect King Regis’s premier general from an early age. “Marshal, what are you still doing here?” 

“Waiting for the two of you,” The Marshal’s eyebrow quirked. “Monica and Dustin will have dinner ready soon. We should eat before it gets dark.”

“It gets dark too early these days,” Talcott complained, “I barely get to play outside anymore.” Talcott trudged back towards the house, and Iris walked in tandem with Cor a few steps behind the boy. She refused to admit to anyone how scared she was for Noctis, and for Gladio and the others as well. A terrible feeling had come over her the night before the Prince and his retinue were to set sail, but she shook it off and tried to stay optimistic. The four men were all so strong now, she had reminded herself. Iris had witnessed their prowess in battle with her own eyes, even fought alongside them herself as they trudged through forests and dungeons, taking out anything in their path. Still, there was an ominous presence amongst the young men that didn't escape her. Even eternally cheerful Prompto had a somber air as he approached the boat this morning, as if they knew their trip to Accordo held something much more than a reunion between the Prince and the Oracle.

“Iris,” Cor said, and she realized that she was still standing at the foot of the stairs to the lighthouse, deep in thought. “Let’s go. We've seen daemons come out of the water recently. I know you can take care of yourself but regardless, we need to exercise caution.”

“Nothing the Immortal Marshal can’t handle, right?” Iris looked up at him as they climbed the stairs, and Cor’s lip curled into a small smirk.

“Of course not,” he replied, following her into the elevator where Talcott was already waiting.

After they finished dinner, Iris played a few games of cards with Talcott and Dustin while Monica and Cor stood on the porch, discussing supplies and reinforcements. Dustin took Talcott to bed after he started to fall asleep against the arm of his chair, and Iris wandered outside to find Cor by himself, leaning over the railing and staring out at the tide crashing against the rocks in the distance. 

“Marshal,” Iris greeted him, and Cor looked down at her, nodding at her in greeting. “Where’s Monica?”

“She went to feed the cats,” he said. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” 

“I’m almost sixteen,” Iris explained in a slightly irritated tone, “I’ll go to sleep when I’m ready. Seriously. I just...wanted to see how long you were staying here. Gladdy was saying that you never remain in one place for very long and...if you are gonna be here for a while and need your own room, I can move in with Talcott.”

Cor sighed and rubbed his temples with his fingertips. “That’s what I was discussing with Monica. I think I’ll put down roots for a while. My royal assignment has come to a close, now that King Regis is truly gone from this world.”

“What do you mean?” Iris cocked her head to the side curiously.

“My sword was imbued with the King’s light. But that light has faded from this world, and the sword’s power has followed suit.” Cor pressed his lips together and folded his hands. “Prince Noctis said that you fought alongside his companions during your journey to Cape Caem.”

Iris giggled, well aware of Cor’s reputation and nervous to discuss her battle prowess, or lack thereof. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say I fought alongside them, but yeah, I got to hang out with the guys for a while and help them out where I could.” She grinned, fond memories taking the place of her lingering inferiority complex. “It was pretty fun.”

“Clarus would have been proud of you,” Cor said, and Iris swallowed hard at the mention of her late father, a lump forming in her throat. “He would have supported any path you chose with the Court, but inside he hoped that you would also follow in his footsteps as a warrior someday, as Gladiolus chose to do when he was young.”

Iris stared at her shoes and bit her lip, holding her breath and suppressing the tears she had wanted to cry since the night before. She had been ready to let herself go, but the Marshal’s mention of her father and her family’s reputation helped her realize that she couldn’t afford to be weak, no matter how worried she was for Prince Noctis and his friends. “You...think so?”

“I know so. Clarus often spoke of you to me. Our King has gone, and until the Prince returns to take his throne and return us to our homeland, we must continue to stand strong for the memory of Insomnia.”

“I...I don’t really know how to fight, though,” Iris admitted sheepishly. “When I was with them, I mostly just gave out potions, and...distracted monsters. Gladdy said I was pretty helpful against the Magitek soldiers, though. We made a good team.”

“I was a warrior accompanying my King on his coming-of-age journey at fifteen,” Cor reasoned with her. “Ignis also began his military advisory training at fifteen, and your brother had been inducted into the Crownsguard by then. It’s the perfect time for you to start, if you’re interested.”

“Insomnia is off limits, and the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive are gone,” Iris replied, a small tremor in her voice, “Who will train me?”

“I will,” Cor said quietly, patting Iris’s shoulder reassuringly. “You may be small, but you have the power of your bloodline within you.” His hand was strong and steady, and Iris felt the uneasy feeling in her heart subside. While she realized years ago that her destiny was not to be at Prince Noctis’s side as his wife, Iris had hoped that there was still a future for her in the future King’s court. Now that circumstances had changed, she still badly wanted to be able to help Noctis and her brother and avenge her father’s death, and the Marshal was giving her the chance to become strong enough to do so.

“Can I think about it?” Iris asked hesitantly, but she was fairly certain what her answer would be.

“I’m not leaving anytime soon,” he replied. “When you’re ready to begin your training, I’ll be here.”

\------

She couldn’t recall the last time she had seen the sun for more than an hour at a time, and the afternoon that her brother, Noctis, and the others had left for Accordo seemed like a distant memory. They kept track of time the same way as they had before the darkness had started to overtake the day, so Iris knew that somewhere in the vicinity of a year had passed since she had last heard of the Prince and his retinue’s condition. 

Cid returned from Accordo with news of the Empire’s attack, Leviathan’s destruction and of Lady Lunafreya’s death. Iris cried that night after Talcott had fallen asleep, sobbing as quietly as possible into her pillow as not to wake the sleeping boy. She refused to admit that either Noctis or her brother were dead; they were too strong to let themselves be killed. Not long after Cid returned, the days grew ever shorter, to the point that daylight was soon a scarce commodity. 

Cor left Cape Caem for a short while, spending time with the hunters in the Taelpar Crag area, but after the cliffside house was attacked by two Iron Giants that appeared shortly after sunset, Cor returned and declared his intent to stay permanently with the group, helping Monica and Dustin rebuild the portion of the roof destroyed in the daemon attack. 

Iris had given a great deal of thought to Cor’s proposal to train her, and as time passed and the daemons became more prevalent and aggressive, she realized that she was a liability to everyone as long as she couldn’t fight for herself. Eventually, she approached Cor and expressed her desire to begin training with him. 

She remembered Cor’s approving smile that night and felt warm inside. They had been training together for three months now; the first month was the most brutally sore she had been in her entire life, and the second and third weren’t much easier. The marshal was a harsh instructor, putting her through the full regimen of a new recruit to the Crownsguard. He showed no mercy, forcing her to test her limits during every training exercise, but he never pushed her past the point of no return. Iris had never held a sword other than in ceremonial instances; she always thought she’d fight with a bow or a gun if she ever did pick up a weapon, but Cor was intent on imparting his skill with a blade to her. Before long, sword calluses were forming on her hands and her mentor was discussing a custom piece with Tony, whose merchant network was still strong despite the declining state of the world economy.

One evening, Iris was out behind the house, picking the few remaining vegetables that grew with such limited daylight for dinner. She remember how much she used to dislike the taste of Leiden peppers, and wondered if she’d ever get to eat a sun-ripened vegetable instead of roots and fungi again. When the light returned to the world, she resolved to eat a more balanced diet with every vegetable she could get her hands on.

She heard her name being called from the house, and looked up to see the marshal approaching the garden. “Come back to the house at once.”

“What’s going on?”

“Gladiolus has returned,” he said, and before he finished his sentence, Iris shot up from her knees, knocking over her basket of vegetables. She ran past Cor, kicking up dirt from the field in her haste, charging up the stairs to the house and inside the kitchen where Gladio sat at the table.

“Gladdy,” she cried, throwing her arms around the behemoth of a man that was her older brother. “I thought...I mean I didn’t want to believe that you were…” She couldn’t force herself to finish the sentence, tears of relief dripping down her cheeks. Gladio smiled softly and hugged his sister, nodding his gratitude at Cor as he entered the house with Iris’s vegetable harvest in hand.

“Good to have you back, Gladiolus,” Cor said, and Iris straightened her posture and wiped away her tears upon hearing Cor’s voice. She tried to stifle her emotions in an attempt to prove to her teacher that she was as steadfast as an Amicitia was expected to be.

Monica offered Gladio a drink, which he gladly accepted, and she, Dustin, Cor, and Iris gathered at the kitchen table and listened to his story as he explained what had happened outside of Lucis over the past year. Tenebrae and Gralea. Noctis and the Crystal. Ardyn. Iris couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and occasionally glanced over at the Marshal to see if he was as dumbstruck as she was. His face didn't betray his emotions, but his stiff shoulders and clenched fists were indication that he was not taking this news objectively. 

“The Crystal...took the Prince,” Cor said, and Gladio nodded. “What of Ardyn Izunia?”

“He’s waiting in Insomnia for Noct to emerge from the Crystal,” Gladio said. “We can’t touch him, he can incapacitate any of us with a single blow. Ask me how I found out,” he chuckled self-deprecatingly. “I hate to say it, but it seems like all we can do is wait for Noct to return as well.”

Iris blinked. “When will he come back?”

“Nobody knows. The Crystal communicates only with Noct. He might not...” Gladio stopped himself short, “...be back anytime soon.” He stroked his beard, which had gone from close-cropped to full and unruly while he had been away. “While we were in Gralea, we saw the future of Lucis,” he continued, “There was no light anymore, just darkness and daemons as far as the eye could see. With Lady Lunafreya and Noct gone and Ardyn setting up shop in Insomnia, it won’t be much longer until the light is gone everywhere else as well.”

Dustin slowly nodded. “It’s been three weeks since we had more than an hour of actual daytime,” he agreed. “How long since the Prince was taken?”

“About that long,” Gladio said, “It took us a while to escape from Gralea and get off of the continent. Turns out I’m a shitty pilot. Lost track of time for a bit, so my estimate could be off.”

Monica glanced at the staircase, checking to see if the noise she heard was Talcott stirring or the old house settling. When she was satisfied, she turned back to Gladio. “Where are Ignis and Prompto?”

Gladio looked away. “They’ve gone to let the other remaining settlements know. Prompto was en route to Hammerhead, and Ignis to Lestallum. I was at Ravatogh and Taelpar a couple of days ago and they told me you guys were still here.” Iris watched her brother carefully; there was more to this story than he was telling them. Something had happened between the band of brothers since the last time she had seen them to damage their bond. 

“When the darkness overtakes us completely, we’re going to have to leave here,” Iris said quietly. “This house can’t defend us against the daemons, and soon enough the garden won’t grow either.”

Cor nodded his agreement. “We should head for Lestallum as well,” he suggested. “You and I can continue our training there. There will be many refugees; I’ve heard stories of the people of Accordo escaping to the mainland already, and it will only get worse as the darkness falls on them.”

Iris caught her brother’s raised eyebrow, and smiled at him. “The Marshal is teaching me how to fight,” she explained. “I’m an Amicitia too. It’s in our blood, right?”

“You’re in good hands,” Gladio chuckled. “There’s nobody I’d trust my little sister with more than the Immortal Marshal.”

“So...are you going to stay with us too?” Iris asked tentatively, her wide brown eyes hopeful. 

“I’ve got things I need to do,” Gladio replied, his gaze far away. “I’ll be around when you need me, but these daemons in Gralea, Iris; they weren’t like the ones you see on the roads at night, not even the Red Giants. They’re…” he shook his head. “I can’t just stay in one place. I’ve got to get out there and hunt, keep people safe and try to have things in order for when Noct comes back.”

Iris felt a familiar knot in her throat again. Just when she had her brother back, he was leaving again. “But...you just arrived…”

“I know,” he said, ruffling Iris’s hair. “But the Marshal will take care of you, and pretty soon, you might even be able to defend him, too.” Gladio grinned at his little sister. “Did he tell you the story of when he took out that entire Imperial squadron with nothing but a pencil for a weapon?”

Cor groaned and Iris looked back and forth between the two men. “He’s kidding, Iris. There were always jokes like that went around the Citadel.”

“Do you mind if I stay here tonight?” Gladio asked, yawning and stretching. 

“It’ll be like old times,” Dustin said, and Iris nodded her approval.

Gladio woke early the next day, and after breakfast hugged Iris and Talcott and bid the rest of the group farewell. She had hoped he would reconsider after spending the night with their ragtag team of survivors, but instead Iris found herself standing on the porch of the house at Caem again, her knuckles white around the railing. “How dare he come and go like that,” she said to herself, internally chastising herself for letting herself believe for a moment that Gladio would stay. Something had changed inside of him; as much as she wanted to follow her brother, to try to fix what was broken and return him to the goofy yet serious man that he was before he left for Accordo, she had already made a promise to Cor to become strong enough to protect those who needed her.

She thought of Gladio’s words, that Cor would take care of her, and decided that maybe her brother was right: if she became strong enough, she could take care of those who had cared for her in their own time of need. Iris didn't think she would ever be as powerful and brave as the Marshal, but if she could do her part to help defend Lucis alongside him until Noctis returned with the dawn, that would be its own reward.


	2. Chapter 2

Her chest heaved, sweat dripping down the back of her neck and soaking through her black tank top. Iris bent down to catch her breath, calloused palms gripping her knees through her loose workout pants, feet planted firmly into the concrete floor. Despite most of the world being cold and barren, the burning Cauthess Disc ensured that Lestallum was as hot as ever. While no one ever told them they needed to conserve energy, Cor and Iris left the air conditioning off at the gym; sweat was a form of catharsis for them. 

“You’re getting much better,” Cor set his wooden sword down on the ground and wiped his hands off on a towel, a shower of perspiration bursting from his short hair as he rubbed a towel over his head. “Either that, or I’m showing my age,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh.

“I’d prefer to think my skills are improving,” Iris wrinkled her brow at Cor. “Forty-nine isn’t that old. Lots of guys in the Crownsguard were still kicking ass when they were fifty or older. Dave’s got to be at least fifty, and he’s killed more daemons than anyone.” She stared across the room at Cor, standing beneath the bare lightbulb that illuminated the gym. His faded black shirt stretched across his muscular chest and arms, and while she noticed flecks of gray in his hair and beard in the right lighting, on the surface his ruggedly handsome face and muscular physique didn’t seem to have aged since the day Insomnia fell. 

Iris knew that appearances were deceiving; the passage of the years and the emotional and physical struggle that accompanied them had worn on the former Marshal, as they had everyone else. At nineteen, Iris sometimes felt very young when she compared herself to the other hunters, but most of the time she felt like two years of their lives had passed for every one on the calendar. Perhaps Cor wasn’t as affected as strongly as she was, considering how many times he had nearly died in the first forty-five years of his life, although when it was just the two of them alone, she occasionally thought she could see the same hopelessness that she sometimes felt in his dark eyes. When Cor’s face took on a distant, pensive look, Iris felt the overwhelming urge to reach out to him and take his hand; she wanted to comfort any disquiet he felt, remind him that even though he had no King to serve, the people still needed him, to make him understand that she needed him more than ever.

Gladio’s change in demeanor since Noctis had entered the Crystal was still confusing to Iris. They lived separately in Lestallum but Gladio visited her whenever he was able; she knew he was checking in on her and was always happy to see him, even though each time he visited she assured him that he didn’t need to worry about her, that she was strong, going as far as challenging him to fight her once or twice. Once or twice she wished that she was still her younger, weaker self, thinking that might bring the old, overprotective Gladio back to her, but in her heart she knew that her brother rested easier after seeing her muscular arms, fast reaction time, and skill with a blade. She hoped that someday he would be able to move past what was haunting him and they could fight alongside each other. If she was strong enough, she hoped to fight alongside Noctis and the others when Noctis returned from the Crystal.

Gladio thanked Cor for his efforts, and instead of accepting the praise, Cor gave all the credit to Iris. She would never forget when Cor told Gladio that Iris was a hard worker and a quick study that was simply doing what she was born to do, just like the two older men did at her age. Her heart swelled at the comparison to both her brother and her mentor. Cor smiled down at her after saying those words, and she still remembered the way the corner of his mouth turned upwards with genuine admiration. 

She still missed Noctis, but she didn't cry for him anymore like she did after Cid first told her about Accordo. Instead, she hoped he was at peace; that wherever he was, he was growing stronger with the blessings of the Astrals, just like she was under Cor’s mindful tutelage, so he could someday defeat Ardyn and return the light to the world. 

“Are you ready to go another round? The daemons don’t let you take breaks to catch your breath, as you already know.” Cor braced his wooden sword over his broad shoulders, draping his arms over the blade, and Iris noticed that for a moment, she was paying more attention to the way that his shirt stretched over his biceps and clung to his sweat-soaked chest than she was to the words that he was saying.

Iris shook off her distraction, adjusted her pontytail, and stretched her arms over her head. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. But you’re no daemon, old man,” she teased, playing off his earlier insecurity and forcing herself to remember that he was her teacher, nothing more. 

Cor twirled his wooden sword in his hands. “All right. Let’s do this.” His stance changed from relaxed to offensive; Iris assumed a defensive position, and Cor charged her with an attack from above while attempting to take her legs out from under her. Iris side-stepped his offense, catching him in the ribs with her elbow, and rolling just out of reach before turning around to see Cor lunging to strike her. She braced herself on her knees, lifting her sword and parrying his blow. Holding him off for more than a couple of moments proved difficult, so she pushed forward with her sword and then flipped backwards, landing gracefully and then charging at Cor with her sword out. 

“Well done,” Cor said, his strong eyebrows set in a straight line across his forehead as he defended against Iris’s offense. “Don’t get cocky, though.” He delivered a quick disabling punch to Iris’s right hand that knocked her grip on the sword loose, the wooden blade clattering on the ground. She realized that her backflip had put her too close to the wall, which allowed Cor to pin her to the wall with his training sword. The blade incapacitated her, pushing against her shoulders to pin her arms to the wall, and Cor snapped his elbow against her chest, not hard enough to break a rib but sufficiently taking the wind out of her. Iris sputtered and struggled, and Cor released her after a few moments.

“Always pay attention to your surroundings,” he chided, using the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. “Some daemons wait until they see your weakness and strike. I think I’ve told you before of one variety that looks like old samurai warriors of legend. If you allow them to strike you in a moment of weakness, they can instantly kill you.”

Iris shook herself off and grabbed her sword from the ground. “Yeah, sorry about that,” she said sheepishly. “I didn’t realize where I was standing.”

“Don’t be sorry. A year ago you were flat on the ground at the first strike,” he said with an approving nod. Iris held her sword out, taking the offense this time and charging at Cor, who defended himself without missing a beat. The percussion from their swords vibrated through her hands. She remembered how Noctis used to warp from one place to another in battle, and thought about how convenient it would be to be able to dart to the other corner of the room and then strike Cor from behind. She attempted two more strikes, the first instantly parried but the second catching Cor on his shoulder. He winced briefly, shaking the hit off as quickly as it came on, and took advantage of the flash of concern on Iris’s face to attack her. She barely dodged his first blow, but the second and third were quickly disabled, and Iris realized that Cor was up against the wall now. With a flourish, she cracked her wooden sword against her teacher’s three more times, backing him into the corner all the while cognizant that his height and weight advantage wouldn’t allow her to overpower him as he did to her. Iris took three steps back and posed defensively, waiting for Cor to make his next move.

“Very nice,” he said, “You recognized that if you tried to physically overcome me, I’d simply turn it back on you.”

“Yup,” she nodded. “You were the one that told me that I’ve got to know when I truly can’t win and to retreat. Not that you've ever retreated,” she added, “at least according to the stories.”

“I’ve retreated before,” Cor shook his head, “It always came well after the orders to do so, however. The problem with most young warriors is that they either let their fear consume them and run too soon, or rest on their laurels and stay beyond the point of no return,” he said, and then without warning charged Iris, knocking her backwards onto the floor of the gym and pinning her to the ground with his elbow.

“What the hell,” she spat, staring up at Cor, “you were just-”

“Attacking while you were resting on your laurels,” he said, “until the battle is over, you have to be ready for an ambush at any time. What would you have done if we were in the field? As much as I’d like to, I can’t always be watching your back, Iris.”

Cor’s arm held her to the ground, but she realized that despite his warnings, he was also been pulling punches because her legs weren’t restrained at all. Iris’s heart pounded in her ears, and she narrowed her eyes. “Something like this?” She jerked her knee upwards into his stomach, and upon impact Cor’s arm lifted just long enough for Iris to scamper out from under him, grab her sword from the ground and hold it against the back of Cor’s neck. Her elbows were chafed and she was going to have bruises on her shoulders tomorrow, but neither of those things mattered in this particular moment of glory.

“Like that,” Cor replied with a grimace, rubbing his abdomen. “Knocked the wind out of me,” he admitted sheepishly.

Iris grinned. “Who ever would have thought Insomnia’s greatest Marshal would be saying that to a nineteen-year old woman?”

Cor shook his head and sighed, “You know, you should probably just call me Cor now,” he said, “There’s no logical reason for you and I to keep old rank intact when there’s no army and no royal family to defend.”

“Noctis is coming back someday,” Iris reminded the older man, refusing to allow an iota of doubt into her voice.

“Certainly. But until then…” he said, looking out the window with the same distant gaze that Gladio often had.

“Okay...Cor,” Iris acquiesced, trying his first name on for size. It sounded strange but she decided that she liked the familiarity. 

Later that evening, she lay in bed alone with her thoughts, listening to the incessant hum of the power plant outside her window. Iris was exhausted from the day’s training, but every time her eyes closed she pictured Cor’s face hovering above hers, his long, heavy body holding her against the unforgiving gym floor. Everything about the scenario she imagined was wrong; Cor was her teacher and mentor, not to mention thirty years her senior, but she couldn’t stop imagining the softness of his lips and scratchiness of his beard against her face as he closed the distance between them and kissed her. 

This was neither the first nor the last time she would play this out in her head, and every time the exhilaration and disappointment came in equal measure. “Don’t be an idiot, Iris,” she whispered to the ceiling, balling her fist tightly over her chest. “Why do you always have to fall for the ones you know you can't have?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bunch of minor OCs in this chapter...nobody you missed from canon.

Several months prior, the Imperial relief effort in Accordo had been declared a failure, and refugees were fleeing to the mainland in exponentially greater numbers than previous years. Lestallum was crowded to begin with, shouldering the majority of the native Lucian population, but with Gralea completely uninhabitable and Tenebrae now burned to ashes and overrun with daemons, the survivors of Accordo were ferried to Lestallum, taxing its resources even further. Cor ended up moving in with Iris and Talcott in the apartment they shared over a shuttered flower shop, vacating his small apartment for a family that had escaped from Accordo. Iris and Talcott took the two bedrooms upstairs, and Cor repurposed the staff room of the flower shop into workable accommodations for himself, leaving the main shop floor open as a training area for Iris and himself. It wasn't luxurious and far from anything they had in the Crown City, but they were much better off than people living in caravans and makeshift houses at the edges of town. 

With the rest of Lucis empty, save for a few small outposts and Lestallum, the daemon population seemed to multiply in greater numbers with each passing month, taking free reign over the majority of the land. The light generally kept the daemons out of the majority of the overcrowded city, but some were becoming more bold and attacking humans living on the outskirts of the city after they had turned their lights off to sleep. Both hunters and civilians alike had been killed by daemons in recent days; the people were becoming increasingly nervous and agitated, which combined with the heat, darkness, and population density was creating instability in Lestallum.

Iris had been hunting daemons on her own for nine months, ever since she had turned twenty-one. In the past year, Cor had become more than satisfied with Iris’s prowess, and began dividing his time between training junior hunters with Dave in Lestallum and accompanying Iris on hunts for larger predators. They lived a fairly simple life, watching out for Talcott, Monica, and Dustin as well as each other.

She anxiously paced back and forth downstairs in their training area, tapping her sword on the floor as she thought. On his way home, Cor happened upon a fight starting between three people in the marketplace, each person accusing the other of something petty, and with the overall tension in the air the situation escalated quickly into violence. Cor had broken up the fight, but in the process taken a broken bottle to the forehead from one of the men, and he rubbed his finger over the bandage that Iris had applied as he watched her stalk in circles around the room. 

“We’ve got to do something,” she said, cracking her knuckles one at a time while looking at her mentor resolutely. “It’s bad enough that the daemons are killing people, but if people start to kill each other because they’re scared and hopeless...we’re screwed.” Iris stopped in place and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“There have been reports of thefts in the city, and other kinds of violence as well. I agree with you, I don’t like where this is going. I did have some police training in preparation for the redeployment of the Crownsguard after the peace treaty, but I’m not interested in becoming the sheriff of this town,” Cor said. “The daemon influx has everyone on edge and the tension seems to be constantly growing.”

Iris leaned against the wall next to Cor and peered up at him. “What about you and me?”

“What about you and me?” Cor repeated her words back to her in his deep voice, glancing back at Iris quizzically.

“We should take the fight back to the daemons where they live instead of just being reactive when they attack us. I’ve been training with you for four years now, and I’ve taken out a bunch of them myself. You said it yourself, I’m more than qualified,” she reminded him, puffing out her chest triumphantly. 

Cor raised an eyebrow at Iris, a glimmer in his blue eyes. “So the two of us against the world of daemons? Seems like an impossible mission, and while you know that’s my middle name, I haven’t lived this long by taking on an assignment I knew there was no chance to survive.”

“You’ve been training hunters with Dave, haven’t you?” Iris thought out loud, “Aranea Highwind and her squadron leaders are deploying traveling units to attack the daemons where they seem to be spawning in droves. You and I could do the same thing with the hunters in Lestallum.” She sighed with frustration. “Cor, I can’t just stand around and pretend things are the same as they were before. You said it yourself, things are getting worse here.”

The former marshal slowly nodded. “Perhaps...that could work.” He ran his hand over his beard, turning Iris’s suggestion over in his head. “Aranea and her men have Imperial transport ships, but we could run a ground operation. Let’s propose it to Dave tomorrow, he and I are already scheduled to meet in the morning.”

Her heart filled with joy and accomplishment at bringing Cor fully on board with her plan. Iris was elated with herself for devising a way to help Lestallum with the daemon problem, and the fact that she was able to convince Cor, who had decades more combat and military experience than she, of the merits of this plan was a huge boost to her confidence. 

Iris and Cor spent the rest of the evening working out plans to refine their strategy, marking spots on a printed map of the Cleigne area where daemons seemed to gather according to their own experience and hunter reports. With just the two of them fighting, they had been able to battle small groups of daemons, but with the backup of the other hunters, they had a better chance of clearing a path through the hordes that prowled the areas just outside of Lestallum. Iris had no preconceived notion that she and Cor would be able to kill all of the daemons that plagued the land; the Daemon scourge was something that only Prince Noctis and his team would be able to purge for good, but if they were able to reduce the overall population the civilian casualties and the associated strife in the city would surely diminish. 

In the morning, Iris and Cor set out to see Dave at the Meldacio Hunter’s HQ, which had relocated to the former Leville Hotel after the tourism industry ceased to exist. Iris sometimes thought it was strange that they held onto the old designations of morning, noon, and evening when there had been nothing but night for years. She brought this up to Cor in casual conversation as they walked side by side, and he shrugged his shoulders, noting that people generally held onto the things that made life feel more normal even if they were no longer necessary or relevant.

Dave greeted them both, and they sat down at his desk, showing him the map they had marked up the night before and explaining their plan to take two squads to Steyliff Grove; there seemed to be a concentration of daemons pouring from the dungeon near the Vesperpool. Cor would lead the team that infiltrated the dungeon, and Iris would patrol the perimeter with her team, holding off the daemons in the surrounding area. Initially, Dave had suggested that Iris take point, but she deferred to Cor, who had much more experience with these types of missions from his decades of military service. They pored over the registry of hunters that were in Lestallum at the moment and chose ten qualified candidates with experience using a variety of weapons. The hunters filtered in as the day went on, Iris and Cor vetting them individually, identifying a second-in-command for each; a man named Mathias for Iris and a woman named Kimiko for Cor. Each hunter they spoke to had lost someone to the daemons, and all were enthusiastic participants in the plan. Iris sent a text message to Gladio to let him know what their plan was and where they were going, just in case something unforeseen happened while they were out. 

The next day, Iris and Cor set out with their teams to Steyliff Grove, making short work of the packs of daemons that littered the path to the Vesperpool. She wished that she could have visited this area before the long night had come; it seemed like it was a beautiful place back when the sun reflected off the water and the plants were green and lush. Now, as they trudged through the dark water, thick with detritus from rotten plants, Iris was thankful only for her water-resistant hunter’s boots and razor-sharp sword to cut through the remaining vegetation. 

Upon arriving at the entrance to the dungeon, Cor and Kimiko stood opposite Iris and Mathias, and both groups assembled their troops behind them. “I’m not sure how well phones work down there,” Cor said to Iris, “but if I need you, I’ll find a way to let you know,”

“Be safe down there,” she said, sheathing her sword and clasping his hand in hers. Iris briefly considered standing on her toes and kissing him for good luck, but instead she squeezed Cor’s large, roughened hand and smiled up at him. She had grown a bit in the past few years but he still had nearly a foot of height on her. “Kick some daemon ass.”

“No daemon ass will be left unkicked,” he replied, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Let’s head out,” he addressed his team, and Iris watched the water splash behind them as they ran into the dungeon.

Almost as soon as Cor’s team disappeared into the darkness, six Ice Bombs and a Red Giant spawned from the thicket of reeds to Iris’s right. She pulled out her sword and shouted orders to Mathias and her other teammates, pairing off into three groups and unleashing their strongest attacks. Defeating the daemons had her heart racing, and after all nine had been annihilated, Iris distributed high-fives, fistbumps, and much-needed potions to her teammates. Amplifying the adrenaline rush from a successful battle was the thrill of being a successful team leader. She was soaked to the skin, mud streaked across her face, and couldn’t wait to take on more. 

Three more clusters of daemons appeared in various areas, clearly being summoned as backup by whatever lurked in the depths of Steyliff Grove as the daemons tried to cut through her team of hunters in search of the entrance to the dungeon. Between battles, Iris checked her phone, happy for waterproof cases. As agreed, he sent her text messages periodically, brief communications to let her know that he was still living up to his reputation. Some time passed between his third message, and the fourth message instructed her to come down into the dungeon and bring her team. Iris called Mathias and her band of hunters back into action, and they followed the trail of daemon corpses through Steyliff Grove to find Cor and his team waiting outside a large door.

“What’s going on?” Iris asked, “You called for backup.”

“There’s about twenty-five daemons behind that door,” Kimiko explained, shaking her head. “We thought about it and there’s no way that we can take them all out on our own.”

“The space is too cramped for us to all fit without injuring someone with friendly fire,” Mathias added.

Cor motioned down the hallway. “Half of us will lure them out,” he said, “We should be able to split their numbers in two. At that point we can divide and conquer; twelve daemons each for six of us should be manageable if we stay focused.”

“You were the Immortal Marshal,” one of the junior hunters muttered, “What about those of us who are a little less immortal?”

Iris turned to the hunter, who she recognized as one of her team members. “This was my plan as much as it was his, so if you’re going to question Cor, question us both. I don’t doubt any of you, though. We chose each of you because we knew you were up to the challenge.” She put her hands on her hips and looked out at the ten hunters in front of them, then at her mentor. “Whatever is in this room is summoning the daemons from the outside. It seems like they’re organizing somehow. It’s terrifying, but it means we’re right,” she said. “We’ve got to do this now, and stick to the plan. That’s what sets us hunters apart from civilians fighting for their life - we have a plan, and we’re not afraid.”

“Agreed,” Cor nodded, his voice serious. “Kimiko, Mathias, you take the fastest hunters and start running down the hall as soon as we open the door. Iris, let’s try that new technique that we've been practicing.” 

“Got it!” Iris produced her sword and charged into the room after Cor, leading two of their comrades along the edge of the circular room. The initial wave of daemons caught sight of the group dashing down the hallway and followed them, leaving a handful of smaller melee daemons and two that Iris knew would poison them if left unchecked. She dispatched her two teammates to take those two out first, throwing pendants at them to keep them safe from harm, while she ran at the smaller daemons, taking two out before the third hit her squarely in the solar plexus, knocking her backwards with a shriek. The daemon held her down with its hind legs and pummeled her with its front legs until Cor’s katana sliced through its head, the blade stopping inches from Iris’s nose.

She jumped back to her feet, breaking open a potion and inhaling the contents. “Little close there!”

“Thank me later,” he replied, then called to one of their teammates, “Draw its attention! We’re going to hit it from behind.”

With the huge daemon distracted, Cor and Iris stood back to back and moved in unison, each striking one of its legs until it crumpled to the floor. They glanced at each other and nodded in agreement, Cor tossed his sidearm to Iris, who leapt in the air, using her mentor’s hands and strength as a springboard to shoot upwards and struck the daemon in the back of the neck with both blades simultaneously while Cor viciously attacked its legs with his primary arm. Their compatriots rushed in to assist while the daemon was vulnerable on the ground, and soon enough the dark energy rushed out of the building-sized daemon as it disappeared into the mist. 

“Everyone okay?” Iris panted, using the hem of her shirt to wipe the sweat from her forehead. She took a quick visual scan of the room to find all six hunters present and accounted for; her ribs hurt and she had a sizeable gash on her forehead, but otherwise, the endorphin rush from the battle was masking any other injuries she had. As she caught her breath, she caught her mentor’s gaze from across the room, and she couldn't remember a time that she had ever seen him look so pleased with her. 

They met with Kimiko, Mathias, and the rest of their team in the hallway and brought up the rear as the group exited the dungeon and returned to Lestallum, dirty, tired and accomplished. Later on, after returning to their apartment, Iris and Cor tended to each other’s wounds while Talcott fixed dinner. As they ate that night, Iris excitedly recounted the day’s dungeon crawl, Cor patiently correcting her exaggeration of some of the details but also reinforcing the fact that the mission couldn't have succeeded without Iris’s strength, bravery, and leadership. 

From that day forward, Talcott referred to her as Iris the Daemon Hunter, and his enthusiasm and love of storytelling ensured that the nickname not only stuck, it became her new title amongst the hunters.


	4. Chapter 4

For her first anniversary of becoming Iris the Daemon Hunter, Iris decided that she wanted a tattoo. A number of women in Lestallum had them, but most of the tattoos she saw were small, cute symbols or designs that were clearly intended to be sexual. Neither of these appealed to Iris, and she spent weeks designing and redesigning an image that she liked enough to wear on her body for the rest of her life. 

When she finally perfected the idea, she showed it to Cor and Talcott while they were having dinner one night. She had taught Talcott how to cook at the same time that Cor had been teaching her to fight and hunt; he had taken to it and now performed most of the domestic duties as well as mechanical work on weapons and vehicles that he had been learning from Cid during his trips to Hammerhead. He often visited Cid while Cor and Iris were out hunting, delivering supplies from the city, picking up weapons and bringing back news from the other side of Lucis. 

“It’s big,” Talcott said, his eyes wide. “That’s gonna hurt like heck,” he added.

“Little pain is good for the soul,” Iris grinned, parroting something that Gladio had said years ago while he was getting his tattoo done. “Besides. It’s part of being an Amicitia. If I was really keeping with tradition I would have started when I was twenty, like Gladdy and my father did. I remember when my brother got his. It took weeks,” she explained. “Princes go on coming-of-age journeys, and Amicitias get huge tattoos.”

Cor swallowed the last of his soup and put his spoon down. “Where are you thinking of having it done?”

She motioned with her hand over her bicep, across her shoulder and partway down her back. “I already told Gladdy and he was excited, we’re going in a couple of days to get it started. You guys can come with if you want,” she said, hoping that her mentor would agree to accompany her. Iris never missed an opportunity to demonstrate to Cor how strong she had become, and a tiny part of her hoped this would help tear down any childish image he might still have of her. 

“Pass,” Talcott said, “I hate needles. They freak me out.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on a family ritual,” Cor replied, but there was interest in his voice. “Though I’m happy to see you carrying on an old tradition. I look forward to seeing it when it’s done.”

Two days later, Gladio met Iris outside her apartment. She tried to mask her disappointment that her mentor wouldn’t be joining them, as her brother had always been able to read her more acutely than she liked. Gladio had known about her crush on Noctis from the beginning, and he would probably try to kill Cor if he knew of some of the thoughts Iris had about him, so she decided it was in everyone’s best interest to keep them to herself. 

The tattoo artist was a middle-aged Insomnian woman named Dayanara whom Gladio had rescued from a daemon attack a year prior. He had learned from her that the artist that had done his tattoo and their father’s before was killed in an attack a couple of years prior, but this particular artist had studied his work and her portfolio passed Gladio and Iris’s judgment after thorough vetting. Iris and the artist had revised the design two more times together before scheduling their session, and by this point Iris couldn’t wait any longer to see her masterpiece brought to life. 

She sat down on the padded table and watched as Dayanara prepared her inks and needles. Gladio turned his back as Iris pulled off her tank top and slid her arm out of her bra strap, straddling the chair with her chest against the back and her chin resting on the padded top. She swept her shoulder-length brown hair over her opposite shoulder and tied it into place. In hindsight, Iris decided it was definitely a good thing Cor hadn’t come along; this would have been awkward for everyone, herself included.

Iris felt a chill on her back as the tattoo artist swabbed her skin with disinfectant, then pressed a tracing of the design onto her body, beginning in the middle of her back and continuing halfway down her left arm. The buzzing sound of the apparatus started shortly afterwards, and Gladio stood at Iris’s side, his heavy hand on the top of her head as the artist began to apply the black ink to her upper arm. Iris winced, but the pain was nowhere near as bad as others had made it out to be; perhaps she truly was as tough as the other hunters liked to say she was. 

Gladio ruffled her hair slightly when Dayanara paused to rest her hands. “How you doing, kiddo?”

“Don’t ‘kiddo’ me,” Iris replied, “and I’m doing just fine. I’m a lot stronger than I used to be,” she added.

“You’ll always be my kid sister,” he laughed, “don’t forget that, no matter how much of a legendary badass hunter you become.” They sat together in silence for the next half hour, the constant hum of the tattoo gun serving as white noise. Dayanara checked in with Iris from time to time, and she let her mind wander to the hunts she and Cor had been on that past week, the weapons she needed Talcott to take to Cid, and the mending that she hadn’t finished last night. Gladio fiddled with his phone, tapping out text messages and smiling at the screen.

Iris watched her brother with interest until she squeezed her eyes shut as the needle crossed from her bicep to her shoulder blade. “Okay, it hurts a little now.”

“Bones are bad, but the armpit’s the worst,” Gladio chuckled. “I’m glad you’re smarter than I was about that.” 

“You never know,” Iris said, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. “Who are you texting?” 

“Hm? Oh, Prompto wants advice again,” Gladio grinned, “Cindy’s just not that into him, but he won’t give up. I guess I can’t fault him for keeping hope alive,” He thought for a moment, scratching his chin. “You know, if you wanted to date him, though…” His voice trailed off. “Maybe it’d be good for both of you.”

“Who, Prompto?” A nervous laugh caught in her throat, and she peeked out of one eye at her brother. “Uh...you know, the last time I wanted to date one of your friends, you were pretty upset.” She swallowed hard, trying to pass her nervousness about the topic at hand off as discomfort from the tattoo. 

Gladio leaned back in his chair, crossing his right leg over his left. “Back then, you were a kid, and Noct was...Noct,” he said, tipping the legs of the chair backwards off of the floor. “Everything’s changed now, you know? Hell, if you told me I’d be suggesting Prompto to you five years ago, I would have told you to punch me in the throat first and him next. But both of you guys have grown up a lot, changed with the world.” He smiled wistfully at Iris. “I can’t believe you’re already twenty-two,” he added, pushing his hand through his chin-length hair.

“I know, and you're thirty this year. That’s even harder to believe.” Iris grinned at him. “Sometimes it seems like only yesterday, we were all traveling together in the Regalia, me crammed in the back between you and Prince Noctis.” At those words, she saw her brother’s face turn from thoughtful to melancholy, and she knew she had hit a nerve. 

“Yeah,” he said, tying back half of his long hair with a band. “Those days are ancient history now, though.”

“So what you're saying is that because I'm older now, you’re okay with me...seeing someone. If there was, hypothetically, someone I was interested in,” Iris shifted in her chair, and Dayanara steadied her with a firm hand on her back. “Sorry,” Iris apologized.

“I need you to hold still for me, honey,” she said to Iris, “although keep talking, you two are a couple of the more interesting clients I’ve had in a while. It’s nice to hear that people are still falling in love during these times. Gets a little bit depressing when most of your business is family names and death dates.”

Iris was quiet for a moment as Dayanara resumed her work, focusing on the sensation of the tattoo instrument approaching the middle of her back. The pain had dulled after her shoulder blade, but was intensifying the closer that the artist got to her spine. 

Gladio glanced at Iris, raising his eyebrow. “You're interested in Prompto?”

“No, I mean, he’s a nice guy but Prompto’s...not really my type,” she said, which was entirely true; Iris didn’t really have much of an eye for blondes. “So...what about you, Gladdy, are you seeing anyone?” Iris asked Gladio, hoping to successfully change the subject. “You always had so many girls’ numbers in your phone when we were living at the Citadel.”

“Ah, you know, I’m barely in one place long enough to see my sister on a regular basis, much less a girlfriend,” he replied nonchalantly. “Maybe once you’re settled down, I can find someone for myself. And don’t you dare bring up my advanced age, hear me? Thirty is still plenty young.” 

Iris giggled nervously at Gladio’s mention of advanced age, hoping that Gladio couldn’t tell what she was hiding from him. “I’m just glad to hear that you won’t be cracking skulls if I do find someone I want to be with.” Her stomach twisted as she thought of Cor; she honestly couldn’t predict who would win in a fight between her mentor and her older brother, and she didn’t want to find out, either.

Gladio laughed sharply. “That’s still up for discussion,” he replied, “If he doesn’t deserve you, I’ll bash his face in.”

Iris felt a momentary surge of adrenaline, partially from the tattoo needles and partially from irritation with her brother. One moment, he was telling her how grown up she was, and the next moment he was selecting her partners for her. She was upset with him for his meddling, and disappointed with herself for letting herself develop feelings for someone she knew that the last of her living blood relatives would never accept. 

“I promise I won’t pick someone who doesn’t deserve me,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But the same goes for you. If you bring home some hussy that isn't worthy of carrying on the Amicitia name, I’m gonna kick her ass too.” Iris smiled at Gladio, sticking out her tongue playfully.

Gladio rose from his chair and walked behind Dayanara, checking out the progress she had made after working for an hour. “Nice,” he said appreciatively, letting out a low whistle. “This is beautiful. Maybe we can talk sometime about some work I’d like to have done.”

Iris raised an eyebrow. “Where else do you have to get tattoos?”

“I’m a big man,” Gladio laughed. “Lots of unpainted canvas to cover.”

“Well, when I get a full back piece like you, you’re not allowed to bitch me out, Gladdy,” she said, her voice full of sass.

“From the sheltered daughter of Insomnian elite to a swearing, tattooed, legendary daemon hunter,” Gladio shook his head, “I can’t decide whether Dad is smiling at us from beyond or he’s ready to beat my ass for not making more of a lady out of you.”

“Not a lot of places left for sheltered ladies in this world anymore,” Iris replied with a wry smile, and Dayanara nodded her head in agreement.

Four hours later, Iris had as much of her tattoo as she planned on completing that day. A thick, stylized black phoenix similar in design to the one that crossed her brother’s back and arms and had been emblazoned across her late father’s chest rose from below her shoulder blade to the top of her shoulder, its wings unfurling towards her spine. Behind the bird’s black body bloomed sprays of flowers on delicate black vines - depictions of the pink volcanic blossoms that were her favorites, although the heads of the flowers were devoid of color at the moment. The vine and flower design gently cascaded over her shoulder and down her upper arm, ending in a shower of loose petals. Iris paid Dayanara generously for her work, promising she would be back to finish the design when she was ready.

Gladio and Iris walked through the streets of Lestallum back towards her apartment. He knew very well that Iris the Daemon Hunter didn’t need his escort, but she knew how important it was for her brother to know she was taken care of, so she let him walk her home, like he used to do in the Crown City when she was a child.

“You should come see me more often,” Iris said quietly as they turned down one of the winding alleys, carefully avoiding people sleeping in the streets, something that had grown more prevalent since the surge of refugees from Accordo. “I miss spending time with you.”

“I know,” Gladio sighed, “I just…” They arrived at her apartment and stopped outside. Gladio folded his arms over his chest, his body heaving with a heavy, cathartic sigh. “Iris, it was my sworn duty, as the King’s Shield. Protecting Noct, I mean. I trained for ten years, defeated the Blademaster, and yet I couldn’t…” His jaw clenched and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, words catching in his throat as he tried to explain himself. “It’s easier to be on my own,” he finally continued, “Being with you sometimes reminds me of him. Everyone from the Crown City does. Ignis, Prompto, they’re the same.” He sighed again and looked away from her. “Okay, look...we’re all getting by in our own way until he comes back, and this is mine.”

Iris pressed her lips together, her brother’s obvious pain causing her heart to ache with sympathy. “Don’t push the people that care for you away just because you’re angry with yourself. There’s still a lot of love in this world if you let yourself see it, Gladdy.” She took a deep breath and blinked twice, refusing to allow sadness to show on her face. “I have Talcott and...and Cor, but...I need my big brother too.”

“You’ll always have me, no matter where I am in the world,” Gladio assured, gathering Iris in his arms and carefully hugging her so as not to put pressure on her freshly tattooed back. She threw her arms around his ribcage, holding him as tightly as she could for as long as he would allow.

After saying her goodbyes to Gladio, Iris climbed the stairs to the second floor, forcibly shoving her feelings down into the pit of her stomach. The adrenaline rush from the tattoo seemed to amplify her emotions, and she hoped that Cor and Talcott would be out and about somewhere so she didn't have to maintain her impassive face for much longer. When she opened the door, to her dismay she saw Cor sitting on the sofa, drinking a cup of tea and reading a book. He glanced up when the door opened, and Iris thought she caught the corner of his mouth turn up as she entered the apartment.

“Welcome back,” Cor said, and Iris nodded, toeing off her boots in the small entryway. She sat down on the chair opposite of Cor and looked up at him. “How did it go? Gladiolus is doing well, I assume?”

“He’s fine,” she said in a small voice. “It was good to see him. And the tattoo looks awesome, want to see?” Her thoughts of her brother temporarily took a backseat to her pride in her achievement.

“If you can show me, of course,” Cor replied, and Iris gingerly peeled away the bandages from her arm and upper back. The black markings sharply contrasted against her pale skin, especially with the angry red outlines that accompanied a fresh tattoo.

Cor reached forward slightly, pulling his hand back just as quickly as he had extended it, and Iris swallowed, biting the inside of her lip. “It suits you, as much as I can see of it,” he said, his deep voice almost solemn. “Are you going to have the flowers filled in with color? Those particular ones are pink in the wild, correct?”

She hadn’t missed the abrupt motion of his hand, and couldn’t express how desperately she wanted Cor to take her into his strong arms and hold her, to let her release what she had been holding inside for years and with his solid presence remind her that the future held more than a never-ending cycle of battlefield gains and personal loss. “These flowers only open at dawn,” Iris explained, closing her eyes and composing herself, a small smile turning the corners of her mouth upwards. “So..I’m going to wait...until the day the sun returns.”


	5. Chapter 5

Led by Iris and Cor, organized teams of hunters had done remarkably well keeping the daemon population at bay. The discovery that the daemons were spawning close to the infested dungeons helped the hunters focus their efforts to cull the daemon population without wasting resources. With the attacks seemingly under control and most of Lucis empty other than a couple of well-defended hunter outposts, the population of Lestallum had remained steady and generally peaceful for the last few years.

Cid finally allowed the group to convince him to leave Hammerhead in favor of Lestallum; Cindy stayed behind at Hammerhead, though they didn’t do many vehicle repairs any longer, she enjoyed talking to the hunters and boosting their morale with her infinite ebullience. Cid moved in to the same building as Ignis, occupying the first floor as stairs weren’t his forte at age eighty-six. Talcott spent a great deal of time with Cid now that he had moved to Lestallum; he had been studying with Ignis for years, the two men researching every book they could find that refugees from Insomnia had smuggled out during their escape from the Crown City. 

Talcott opted not to take up the sword like Iris did; Prompto instead taught him how to defend himself with guns in order to protect himself on the road, although the young man vastly preferred research with Ignis and working with machines to combat. Nine years had passed since the world had been plunged into eternal night; in the streets played a new generation of children that only knew sunshine, blue skies, and green plants from their parents’ stories and photos. 

Gladio was still more distant than Iris preferred, and the young huntress was beyond frustrated at pretending that she was fine with her older brother’s absences. Iris also realized that Gladio had begun seeing someone, although he seemed to be keeping the person’s identity a secret for one reason or another. On more than one occasion she goaded him to tell her about his secret relationship in hopes that whoever his partner was, the revelation was more shocking than her own hidden desire, but he always replied with a noncommittal answer. 

Above all else, Iris was more embittered with every day in which she had to pretend she had no attraction to the man who had been by her side ever since the sun had gone out over Eos. Each night that she fell asleep wishing he was beside her led to another morning that she awakened with a sharp pain in her heart. She couldn’t remember exactly how many years had passed since she realized that her feelings for Cor were neither reactionary or temporary, and keeping her secret was exponentially more difficult as they grew closer inside and outside of their duties as hunters. The last eighteen months had been excruciating as Monica and Dustin revealed their relationship to the group, Cor confided in her that Talcott had started asking him about girls, and everyone from the junior hunters to her own brother seemed to be putting pressure on Iris to find a suitable mate and settle down. 

Monica and Dustin had married shortly after the new year in a small ceremony. The older woman had confided to Iris before the ceremony that she was pregnant, and Iris took this as a sign that things were changing for the better, that humanity still had all the life in the world left to live; when Monica told her a few weeks later that she lost the baby, Iris was devastated, but managed to hold it together for her friend’s sake until she returned to her own apartment. She was barely five steps inside the door when she finally collapsed under the weight of her emotions and let herself cry the tears that she had kept inside for longer than she ever thought she could. 

Iris didn’t care anymore if anyone heard her cry; she had finally hit her breaking point. She was mentally and physically exhausted after years of hunting; in the beginning, the battles were triumphant and victorious, but over the last year two hunters that Cor had trained died during missions Iris had overseen. She had come very close to breaking down at that time, but she remembered the dozens of soldiers Cor had lost. She publicly mourned with quiet grace and shed her tears for the fallen hunters privately in the confines of her bedroom, while no one else was at home. 

While she sobbed ugly, gut-wrenching tears into her hands, Iris wished that she had some kind of astral power to bring Monica’s unborn baby back, mend her brother’s broken heart, and while she was accomplishing impossible feats, somehow add at least fifteen years to her age. In her heart she knew these were all irrational wishes, especially the last one, and she leaned back against the wall, attempting to calm herself down. After a few moments of holding her breath as tightly as she hugged her arms around her slender body, she gave up and let the tears begin to fall once more.

Cor eventually returned home, opening the door to find Iris still sobbing on the couch, her shoulders shaking and face blotchy red and streaked with tears. “Iris,” he said, taking her by the shoulders, looking into her red-rimmed eyes, “What happened? Did someone hurt you?”

She shook her head, but understood his concern; even when a daemon had recently split her side open with its sword, Iris had cursed a blue streak instead of crying. She glanced at him, his cool blue eyes filled with concern, and swallowed hard, fighting back a fresh wave of tears.

“It’s not...Talcott, or Gladio? Prince Noctis? Has he returned?” His tone changed from concerned to incredulous as he rattled off names.

“No,” Iris choked out, losing her battle and eyes filling with fresh tears, “No, it’s not that...Monica,” she stammered, “Monica was pregnant...she lost the baby...and I…” 

“Monica was pregnant?” He closed his eyes and exhaled, his warm hands squeezing Iris’s shoulders. 

Iris stared up into Cor’s narrow eyes and nodded. “She was heartbroken, Cor, and I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t even cry with her because she needed me to be strong for her.” She wiped the tears from her bloodshot eyes with the back of her hand and sniffled. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” he asked, handing her a tissue from the box on the table. 

Iris blotted at her eyes and blew her nose, slumping her shoulders as she continued with her stream of consciousness. “How do you always stay so strong? How do you…not feel the loss around us? Sure, things are a little better now than before we became hunters, but it sometimes feels like that’s all there is, loss and sadness, and the only thing that grows in this fucked up world is the number of daemons,” she shuddered, shaking her head. “We kill them and more show up, stronger and faster, while people just find a way to live until they...they don’t live anymore,” she said, her voice rising as she poured her heart out, years of suppressed emotions let loose. 

Cor sat down next to Iris on the sofa, and she threw herself into his open arms, fisting his wash-worn shirt in her hands, her tears soaking into the soft material. He encircled her narrow frame in his arms and she took a deep breath; Cor’s masculine scent was comforting, the combination of shaving soap and his clean sweat a source of both solace and sadness. Her body trembled against his as her emotional floodgates fully opened. “I’m sorry...I’m not as strong as you are,” Iris sobbed, “I want Noctis to come back, to bring back the light to the world. I’m tired of life being a zero-sum equation,” she said, her voice catching in her throat, “every time it feels like we’re finally winning, something happens to remind me of how easy it is to lose.”

She pounded her fists on his firm chest, forgetting her own strength and hitting the older man hard enough to bruise. “It’s not fair,” Iris cried, “Noctis is gone...Gladio is too wrapped up in his own shit to be more than an occasional part of my life...Dad is dead...you’re all I have left,” she sighed, dropping her head to his chest. “You aren’t going to leave me behind, are you?”

Her mentor remained silent for a moment, and his arms tightened around her. “You asked me how I stay strong,” Cor finally said, taking her shoulders in his hands and straightening her back. “When I was about your age...I had to lead a stealth mission into Nifelheim. There were six men under my command; our senior officer was taken prisoner outside of Gralea and we had to extract him as we knew the Niffs were going to torture him for information,” Cor explained. “There had to be a hundred soldiers between us and them. I wanted to retreat, to call in backup, but there was no time. So we concocted a plan, and infiltrated the base.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I lost four of my six men that day. We never recovered their bodies. Our senior officer had been beaten within an inch of his life, but we managed to break him out of prison and escape. During our escape, I was shot twice, once in the back and once in the shoulder and had the choice of giving up or continuing to run,” Cor said, his gaze far away as he remembered the day. “So we kept on, and by the time we returned everyone had presumed us dead. I wish I could say that was the last of such missions, but until we lost King Regis and the Crown City eight years ago, it was the life I led for close to twenty years.”

“Doesn’t it hurt you, though?” Iris sniffled. “Losing people, seeing them hurt and killed…”

“Every time,” Cor nodded slowly. “The thing is, Iris, loss is a part of life. It’s what makes our lives precious, knowing what we have to lose. If you knew you had forever with someone, you might not take advantage of that time with them, because you’d take the time you had for granted,” he said.

Iris stared at Cor in the soft lamplight, his serious gaze softened by the clusters of fine lines at the corners of his eyes. There was more grey at his temples than he had a few years ago and his beard was taking on a definite salt and pepper tone, but he still looked as strong and dignified as he had eight years ago when he offered to train her as a hunter. He had a point; nothing lasted indefinitely, and she was stupid to continue to waste precious time that she had left. “I…” Iris took a deep breath, her stomach full of nervous butterflies. “Cor, I…have to tell you something.” 

A knowing look briefly flashed across his face. “Don’t,” he quickly interrupted, shaking his head. “Please, Iris.”

“What do you mean…I haven’t even…” She swallowed, her heart thudding in her throat. 

Cor pulled away from her, creating distance between them on the sofa. “You’re still young. The sun will come back...Noctis will return,” he said, his fingertips pressing firmly into his thighs. “You’re important to me too, but you don’t understand…”

“I liked Noctis when I was barely a teenager. That's over. It was a schoolgirl crush, nothing more,” Iris bit her lip, refusing to accept his rejection before she had even had a chance to turn her feelings into words. “And I do understand. I’m not a little girl anymore.”

“I’m fifty-three years old,” Cor reasoned, his lips a thin line and his brow wrinkled. “I’ve lived two of your lifetimes.”

“I don’t care how old you are,” she said, “For years…” she looked away, “I’ve wanted you. And only you.”

He took her hand in his, squeezing firmly and shaking his head. “I’m flattered,” he said after a long silence. Iris tentatively turned back to Cor and recognized the look in his eyes. “What man wouldn’t be flattered by your attention? You are a strong, smart and beautiful woman. But...you’re still finding your way. The person you’re looking for will be there when you do.”

“That’s bullshit,” she cursed at him, pounding her fist into her thigh. “I’m not too young to know who I am and what I want. You knew those things when you were my age, you told me yourself.”

Cor smiled back at her. “I was young and impulsive once as well, just like you and your brother,” he returned, dropping her hand and scratching his beard, “Listen, Iris. My sole purpose since I enlisted as a teenager was to defend the King and the Crown City. You know that duty reigns amongst the Crownsguard,” he said. “Not long after we returned from Nifelheim, I was promoted to a senior officer. Around the same time, I began seeing a woman introduced to me by King Regis. She was always a challenge, temperamental and radiant, and I fell in love with her.” It was his turn to look away from Iris, staring at an invisible object on the wall behind her. “For months, mission after mission, I told myself I would ask her to marry me when I returned from my next assignment.”

Iris bit her lip and watched Cor’s fingers drumming against his thigh. She had never known him to be nervous, but this was obviously a piece of his history that was rarely shared with anyone. “Did you?” 

“My unit was sent to Tenebrae when the first of the new variety of Magitek armies was deployed,” Cor continued his story. “No one had faced troops with their level of enhancement before. My entire unit was captured and I spent two weeks in one of their holding cells. That was the first time I met Chancellor Izunia,” he added. “The Niffs killed my second-in-command and demanded that King Regis alone negotiate my release. I escaped, but I was nearly killed in the process.” He cleared his throat. “While I was imprisoned, I thought of her every day, imagining what she was going through and knowing that if I survived, this could easily happen again. Eventually I realized that I was doing her no favors by binding her to me, if that was the life I was to lead to serve my King.”

She pressed her lips together into a thin line, “I’m sorry that you had to let her go,” Iris murmured sadly. “But...what does this have to do with how I...my feelings for you? You were the one who told me that old rank is irrelevant now that Insomnia, the Crownsguard, and Kingsglaive are gone. Do you plan on becoming the Marshal again, serving Prince Noctis when he returns, when he takes his throne and becomes King? If you are, then I’ll serve him as well, at your side.”

“Because I can’t hurt another woman by letting her fall in love with me, knowing I won’t be there when she needs me,” He rested his head on his fist, arm propped on the arm of the sofa. “I’m getting older, Iris. Don’t misunderstand, I’ve got a lot of fight and hopefully a lot of years left in me, but I know I won’t be around forever. It’s why I’ve started to train the next generation of hunters. It’s why I took you under my wing.”

She clenched her teeth. “Shouldn’t you want to...make the most of the time you have left, then?”

Cor shook his head, “I am, by preparing you and the other hunters to keep the world safe for current and future generations. I think I’ve done pretty well so far,” He stood from the sofa, changing the subject. “Monica...is she all right?”

Iris dug her fingernails into her palms, incredulous at how easily Cor for dismissed her, when based on his hesitant reaction to her confession he seemed to have similar feelings to some degree. She wanted to turn the conversation back to the two of them, force the subject until he saw her side, but knew from her lifetime of experience with strong, stubborn men that he would simply shut down. Reluctantly, Iris acquiesced to the change of subject. “Physically, she’s fine, I guess. Otherwise...she’s pretty distraught. But Dustin is with her,” Iris nodded, watching him as he headed to the kitchen to start the kettle for tea.

“She has always been strong,” Cor agreed. “It’s good that you were there for her, though. I can’t imagine it’s an easy time.” Iris watched him while he rustled around in the cupboard, collecting two cups and the tin of dried tea leaves. She wished there was a way to convince him to take a chance on her; perhaps if he understood how true her feelings were, he would recognize her as a potential lover as well. In her heart she knew how steadfastly her mentor held to his beliefs; if she forcibly tried to change his mind, she would no doubt sabotage any chance she had with him entirely. With a deep sigh, she unfolded her hands and examined the angry red half-moons on her hands.

“I’m sorry I got so emotional,” Iris finally turned around, leaning over the arm of the sofa. The apology was loaded and more to herself than to him; she was sorry for crying, sorry for hitting Cor, and especially sorry that she had poured her heart out to him about her attraction to him, thinking there was any chance he would reciprocate her feelings.

“Don’t apologize for your emotions,” Cor measured out two portions of tea, “only learn to control and express them calmly. If you cease to feel, you may as well cease to exist.”

Iris accepted the cup of tea from her mentor and felt the couch sink as he sat down again next to her. She blew across the top of the cup to cool the hot tea and watched his throat move as he took a sip. How Cor could make such a statement when sometimes it appeared he had no emotions at all was something that Iris couldn’t even begin to understand. The two hunters drank their tea in silence, the quiet interrupted by a text message from Talcott indicating that he would be spending the night at Hammerhead. 

“I’m heading to bed,” Cor said, setting his teacup down on the table and looking at Iris. She forced a smile onto her face and nodded. “Have a good night. Let me know if you need help with the dressing on your leg tomorrow.”

With a nod, Iris wished her mentor a good night, forbidding herself to follow him as he left the apartment, listening to his steps as he descended the stairs to his living quarters. She lay alone in bed that night, tossing and turning for over an hour. Wide awake and filled with longing, her hand eventually slipped beneath the hem of her pajamas. Iris cursed her want and weakness as her calloused fingers and thoughts of the man who refused to acknowledge her brought her to a bittersweet high followed by a fitful slumber.


	6. Chapter 6

The human population continued to celebrate the Solstice year after year, regardless of whether or not there was a sun in the sky to honor. Iris remembered Cor’s rationale that some traditions were simply creature comforts, and the Solstice and New Year were two such things. All of the former Insomnians made a point to gather for the celebration each year. It was one of the few times outside of a major hunt that Gladio, Ignis, and Prompto were all in Lestallum at the same time. This year, Talcott was turning twenty, his coming of age itself a cause for celebration. Most everywhere in Lestallum was crowded to begin with after ten years of darkness, and the Solstice celebration brought throngs of people out of their homes to the center of town, where food and drink flowed as freely as they had prior to the start of the years of endless night. The group had toasted to Talcott’s coming of age, to the girlfriend whose name Gladio still refused to divulge, to successful daemon hunting, and to the memory of Insomnia, King Regis, and all others lost over the past decade. The last toast was solemn, a prayer for the return of Prince Noctis to the land. Every year they made the same appeal to the Astrals, and every year the Prince was absent again. 

Cid and Ignis leveraged their talents in cooking and engineering over the course of the year after Gladio suggested a casked, aged liquor; they opened the cask at Solstice and summarily declared it a success. Iris had been drunk several times in recent years, so she knew where her limits were, and after two full glasses, the world was warm and blurry. She had been sitting next to Cor as the group toasted again and again, and when her head started feeling heavy and her inhibitions started to slip away, she felt the urge to slide closer to him, to lay her head on his chest and close her eyes. Iris recognized her feelings before it was too late and forced herself to get up and take a walk before she let herself do something stupid.

The day after she had fruitlessly laid her heart bare to her mentor, she had goaded Prompto into taking her with him on a hunt near Hammerhead to get away from Lestallum for a few days. Iris would have preferred to hunt with Gladio, but she knew he was out for several days in the Ravatogh area. She didn't understand how their ancient phones still worked, but she was grateful for it; however, service was terrible near the volcano, and Prompto seemed enthusiastic about having Iris along as a partner. They had stopped by the hunter’s outpost to rest at the caravan, and in the middle of the night, on the way back from the restroom in Takka’s former diner, Prompto had overheard Cindy’s voice; when he went to investigate, he caught sight of her with her arms locked around another woman’s neck, kissing her as if her life depended on it. He was understandably distraught and immediately opened the bottle of cheap moonshine that the hunters left in the caravan, and they shared a drink of the corrosive beverage while Prompto lamented his misfortune. 

Fresh off her own rejection, Iris was little help in consoling Prompto with words, but when he slid his arm around her on the narrow vinyl seat in the caravan and leaned in awkwardly to kiss her, she willingly responded to his advances. Prompto admitted the next morning that Iris wasn’t really his type, but he had fun and hoped they would still be friends; she was thankful for the rejection, because it saved her from having to guiltily confess that Prompto was a distraction of her own. The two young hunters spent the rest of their time together hunting and between daemon kills, reminiscing about the days of traveling the world in the Regalia, sharing stories of Noctis and only allowing each other a bare minimum of sadness.

She arrived at the Leville after a bit, nodding to the hunters that kept watch via the daemon trackers while the rest of the population celebrated. Climbing the stairs to the second floor and perching on the balcony, Iris looked down at the revelry below her, finding the small cluster of people she called family and kept a close eye on them. She bent over and rested her slightly dizzy head against the railing of the balcony, wishing for a moment that she could go back in time to the morning that she had spent with Noctis in Lestallum, remembering his drowsy eyes and casual conversation as she showed him around the city that she would eventually call home. She wondered if she and Cor would stay in Lestallum when the light returned, and realized there was nothing tethering her to her mentor with the threat of the daemons gone. The world would have to rebuild when that day came; Iris had an epiphany that her entire adult existence had been spent training to fight daemons, and that when the Prince reclaimed his throne and brought the light back to the world, she was going to have to find something else to do with her life. The last time she had considered a future as anything other than a daemon hunter, she was fourteen years old and still recovering from her first broken heart.

“Hey, what’re you doing up here by your lonesome?” Iris turned around at the familiar voice, and Aranea sauntered over next to Iris, leaning against the balcony. “They’re getting pretty drunk down there,” the older woman noted, “how come you’re not with them?”

“I wanted some air,” Iris replied, glancing at Aranea. Her platinum blonde hair flowed loose around her shoulders, and she had traded her dragoon’s uniform for a more casual outfit befitting a party. “You?”

“Saw you up here and thought I’d drop in. Our paths don’t cross often, I wanted to congratulate you on the work you and the former Marshal are doing.” Aranea smiled at Iris, and Iris nodded and smiled broadly in return. “Over the past couple of years, you two have brought the daemon threat down enough in the vicinity of the city for Biggs, Wedge, and me to be able to focus on the outlying areas. We’ve been able to save a lot more people thanks to what you’ve done with the hunters here.”

Iris grinned and shrugged lightly. “We got the idea from you. If you hadn’t discovered that the spawning grounds were near the underground fortresses, Cor and I wouldn't have known where to start.”

“How is the Marshal these days?” Aranea scanned the crowd as she talked, searching for the group of Insomnians in the sea of people. “Still the most interesting, most single man in the world?”

A blush crept up the back of Iris’s neck and she swallowed hard. It would be just her luck if Aranea had developed an interest in him. “As far as I know,” Iris replied.

“You live with him,” Aranea pointed out. “I think you’d know if he was single. Unless…” She peered down at Iris. “Don't tell me you and he are…?”

Iris shook her head emphatically. “No,” she replied, “We’re not.”

Aranea shot Iris a knowing look, running a hand through her hair. “You want to be, though.” 

“What makes you say that?” Iris quickly went on the defensive, staring down at her folded hands on the balcony. She wished that Aranea had come prepared with another drink for her if she had planned on starting this conversation.

“Please,” Aranea laughed, “I’ve been on this planet for a lot longer than you. I know unrequited love when I see it. It’s that look your cute friend with the freckles gives me every time he sees me.” She stood up and placed her hands on her hips. “So you and Prompto aren't some kind of thing, are you?”

Iris sighed. “Why does everyone think Prompto and I should date?” She didn’t allude to the night in the caravan, although she wondered if Prompto had given something away, based on the look in Aranea’s eye. “Is it just because we’re close in age? I don’t think...that's always the most important part of a relationship.”

“Talk about loaded questions,” Aranea replied. “I’m not going to give you a lecture on age differences. You may be younger than me but you’re a grown woman, just like I am, and you know yourself. Don’t let anyone allow you to believe differently.” 

“What are you getting at?” Iris pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips. “I’m the one that talked Cor into hunting the daemons as we are now.”

“Exactly. You know how to take the initiative when something's really important to you,” the dragoon said, pointing her finger emphatically at Iris.

“How would you know?” Iris peered curiously at Aranea. Their paths rarely crossed more than two or three times a year, so she was interested in knowing how the other woman was drawing her conclusions.

“You think people don't talk? It’s a small world nowadays. You're quite a legend amongst the hunters. Some of them say they never thought you had it in you, others always knew you did and are proud to say they were right. Either way, you're making me step my game up these days. I’ve definitely got competition as the baddest bitch in town,” Aranea explained as she slapped Iris on the back gently.

Iris laughed nervously, slightly incredulous at Aranea’s praise. “Thanks, I guess. I'm just happy to be strong enough to help out. It sucks to feel powerless.” She sighed. “You've been fighting for a lot longer than I have, huh? Ever think about what you're gonna do when there’s no more battles?”

Aranea pressed her lips together into a thin line. “Not really,” she answered, “from our end in Nifelheim, we knew all along there was never going to be a peace treaty with Lucis, that the whole thing was all a power grab for the Empire. The Emperor thought it was going to be easy after he got the ring and Crystal, but the best laid plans rarely go as expected.” She chuckled to herself and glanced at Iris, “That's why I don't tend to make plans, I generally just do what feels right and if it doesn't work out, move on to the next thing that seems interesting.”

Iris blinked at Aranea, silently processing the older woman’s words. The mercenary lifestyle seemed so carefree, without the pressure of family obligation or long-term commitments, but Iris also knew that individual situations were rarely as simple as they seemed. She wasn't sure that she wanted to bare her soul to Aranea when she couldn't be honest with her feelings to the people closest to her, and decided to change the subject before the conversation got too personal from her end. “So...your question before, about me and Prompto…?”

Aranea grinned wolfishly. “Thought I might see if he’s up for a little private Solstice celebration. He’s filling out nicely and I like that little beard he's been growing lately,” She crossed her arms underneath her ample breasts. “Sure hope it won’t be his first time,” she added, “not that I'd mind corrupting the youth of the world a little.”

Iris blushed and shrugged nonchalantly. “I wouldn't know,” she lied through her teeth. “To answer your question, though: Prompto and I are just friends. Really.” she added earnestly. Aranea was ten years older than Prompto, and she didn't seem to care one bit about the difference in their ages. At the same time, the older woman’s feelings for Prompto seemed temporary, whereas Iris knew that her desire for Cor was far deeper than a one-time physical tryst could satisfy.

“Thanks for that,” Aranea said, patting Iris on the shoulder. “C’mon, let’s rejoin the festivities. It’s Solstice tonight; we’ve got every other day of the year to be alone.” The two women descended the stairs together, Iris following behind Aranea, remembering how jealous she was of Aranea’s shapely figure the first time she met the dragoon, and happy that her own body had filled out somewhat as she had grown older. They walked back through the crowd, using Gladio’s height to guide them to the group, and Aranea squeezed Iris’s shoulder before splitting away, heading towards Prompto’s shock of blonde hair next to Ignis. 

“Where did you disappear to?” The corners of his mouth quirked upwards upon her return. Cor peered up at Iris with slightly bloodshot eyes, holding a nearly empty glass of liquor in his hand. “Thought you might have snuck off to bed.”

“Had to check on some things at HQ,” Iris replied vaguely. “Everything’s fine, though.” She glanced past the former Marshal at the band that was playing on the raised platform where the raised garden used to grow. “You always sit the dances out.”

“I’m not much of a dancer,” he admitted, finishing the last of his drink and setting the glass on the table.

Iris channeled the courage from the liquor she had been drinking and some of Aranea’s carefree disposition and extended her hand to Cor. “Come on, just this once. I promised Talcott the next dance.” She decided that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and waited with her hand out until her mentor accepted, the pair disappearing into the crowd and finding an open space. The band played at a medium tempo, and Cor led Iris in a simple box step, their movements as seamlessly coordinated on the dance floor as they were on the battlefield. Iris threaded her fingers through one of Cor’s warm hands, resting the other on his shoulder and twitching slightly at the pressure of his large hand resting in the small of her back. She followed his lead, grinning up at him when she saw him looking down at her with dark eyes.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, raising his eyebrow quizzically.

“You’re the best bad dancer I’ve ever danced with,” Iris joked, attempting to lighten the mood. “Did you have to learn to dance as part of your Crownsguard training? I had to take lessons starting at five years old.”

“Never,” he said, “but then again, my origins were much more humble than yours. I wasn't raised as Lucian elite,” he added with a wry laugh. “I suppose decades of combat training results in similar synchronicity.” He quietly glanced out at the crowd over the top of her head, and she felt his fingers tighten around hers. 

Iris’s heart rose into her throat at the intimate gesture, knowing that his thoughts were with their decimated homeland. She squeezed his hand back, and continued to follow his lead until the song ended, her small hand disappearing completely within Cor’s long fingers and rough palm. As the couples began to disperse, Iris looked for Talcott amongst the crowd, and saw him sitting next to Gladio, face-down on the table. Cor followed her gaze and chuckled, shaking his head.

“You only come of age once,” he said, grinning down at Iris, “I remember carrying you back home over my shoulder when you couldn't walk after your own party,” he added.

Iris blushed, wishing she could remember anything about that moment; the liquor and the atmosphere had part of her ready to beg for a refresher, with a markedly different end to the night. She swallowed and laughed nervously, chiding herself for allowing such thoughts to surface when she was standing so close to him. “Looks like I lost my other dance partner,” she replied, adding a touch of disappointment to her voice so as not to appear overly excited at another chance to dance with Cor. “You going to leave me hanging?”

The older man sighed, his face resigned, but his blue eyes were warm and the small lines around his eyes deepened as he smiled. “I was taught to always be at a lady’s side in her time of need.” He extended his hand to Iris again and she bowed exaggeratedly, as she had done during her lessons in the Crown City, and the two Lucian elites turned hunters passed the rest of the night between the dance floor and their chosen family, for one night allowing themselves the luxury of being something other than comrades, mentor and pupil, or survivors. 

The next day when Talcott wandered out of his room, hung over and as sick as a dog, Cor prepared a blend of curatives and forced Talcott to drink water while Iris cooked the greasiest hangover breakfast she could come up with using the ingredients she had on hand. While Iris scrambled eggs, she thanked the gods that she had stopped drinking early in the night. She felt sorry for Talcott, having been in his position before, but was secretly thankful to have something to focus on besides the memory of resting her head on Cor’s chest and listening to his heartbeat as they swayed to the music until the last song was played, the dance floor cleared, and Cor and Iris had to take turns dragging Talcott back to their home.


	7. Chapter 7

After the Solstice celebration and the coming of the new year, Iris resolved to be more confrontational with Gladio and close the distance that she still felt between them. She reasoned that if she could convince one stubborn man to open up to her, perhaps she’d have better luck with her unresolved situation with Cor. It didn’t take her long to convince her older brother to commit to meeting her for a drink once every two weeks, and for the past six months the only one who had broken their date was Iris when Monica had announced that she was in labor. Her twenty-fifth birthday had passed and also marked one of their most successful hunts to date; several weeks later, Monica and Dustin’s daughter was born. They named her Adele, which had no particular significance aside from being a perfect name for a beautiful girl. 

Iris enjoyed spending time with Monica and Adele; it had been so many years since Talcott was a child and Adele triggered her memories of how much she liked taking care of children. She idly wondered if the opportunity would come to have her own, and before her latent maternal feelings had time to manifest, Iris quickly reminded herself that her first and foremost duty was to protect the people. She had taken the Hunter’s Oath alongside Cor, who still fought as hard as he did ten years ago, despite there being a bit more grey in his beard and his wounds taking a little longer to heal these days. 

She had returned home from HQ after turning in a stack of reports and headed back out to her favorite bar when Gladio abruptly canceled his plans with Iris, his reasoning vague but his resolve strong when he told her that he had to meet Prompto and Ignis and head to Hammerhead right away. Iris goaded her older brother to tell her what was going on, and while Gladio’s explanation was inconclusive, the tone of his voice was more hopeful than it had been in years. While she was still annoyed with Gladio, there was something about his demeanor that led her to believe that unprecedented events were in store at Hammerhead. 

Recalling that Talcott was on his way to the remote outpost on one of his normal supply runs, Iris attempted to call him, but his number went straight to voicemail. Since most of the towns along the way were uninhabited, there were long stretches of highway between Lestallum and Hammerhead without cell service. Iris texted Talcott, instructing him to call her right away, but the younger man also failed to respond with any urgency. For the better part of a day, Iris worried herself sick, pacing around the apartment and checking her phone every few moments to see if she had received a text message. Cor watched her walk in circles for a few moments before setting his blade down on the table and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Relax,” he commanded, and Iris turned towards him with her hands on her hips. 

“I can’t relax,” she said, “Something’s going on, Cor. You know it too.”

“I do,” Cor replied evenly, “but pacing in circles isn’t going to accomplish anything other than wearing out your socks. Meditation generally helps when I feel anxious,” he added.

Iris sighed. “How can you be so calm? I’m about to go crazy wondering what’s happening, and you’re sitting there like it’s any other day. Gladdy’s silence speaks volumes. There’s something huge happening, and I need to know what it is.” She tapped her finger against her cheek thoughtfully. “I know Talcott has the truck, but maybe we can take someone else’s car and follow them to Hammerhead.”

Cor sighed, a touch of exasperation creeping into his voice. “Iris,” he said, “we don’t have any real information on what’s occurring. It’s got me on edge too, but without knowing the circumstances we can’t go rushing in. Wait until you hear from Gladiolus or Talcott. Once they have a chance to apprise the situation, you and I can determine our next move.”

“What are we supposed to do in the meantime?” Her body was buzzing with nervous energy, and she checked her phone again - still no messages on the screen.

“I’m going to finish what I was doing and then I’m going to meditate. You’re welcome to join me,” he said, picking up his sidearm and cleaning cloth from the coffee table and returning to his task at hand.

Iris’s fingernails dug into her palms. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this frustrated with her mentor; there were only two things that were going to help her calm down at this point and she had no control over either of them. Sometimes she wished that she could channel Cor’s monk-like stoicism, other times she wanted nothing more than to break his guard and force him to lose control. While Iris knew that the former was the right thing to do in this situation, the latter was infinitely more appealing.

Before she had the chance to make a decision she would probably regret, her phone chimed in her pocket. The tone hadn’t stopped ringing by the time she had her messages open. Iris had to read Gladio’s text three times to make sure she wasn’t misreading the words that she had been waiting so long to see.

“Noct is back,” the message read. As she started to type a message back to him asking if he was serious, another message appeared on the screen. “I’m not bullshitting you. He’s with Talcott on the way to Hammerhead.”

Iris squealed with delight, startling Cor out of his meditation. “What’s wrong?” he said, looking up at her with concern.

“Nothing! It’s Gladdy,” she said, barely able to contain herself. “Noctis is back. Gladio just texted to tell me!” 

Cor’s generally impassive face broke into an almost disconcerting grin, and she was pretty sure her smile was almost as wide as his. Hope quickly replaced the worry that had every muscle in her body tense. Iris wanted to run through the streets of Lestallum and announce to everyone that the Chosen King had returned, and to begin preparations for the breaking dawn and their King’s homecoming celebration. 

Iris ebulliently described her plan, and her mentor squeezed her shoulder and shook his head for the second time that day. “I understand how you feel,” he said, “but you know as well as I do that it won’t do us any favors to excite the public before we know that Noctis and his team have completed their mission.”

“Do you think he’ll fail?” Iris’s voice was incredulous. “The Astrals wouldn't let him take Ardyn Izunia on if they didn’t think he was ready. They’re the gods...they want to protect the people.”

“I have all the faith in the world in Noctis, Gladiolus, and the others,” Cor explained, “but when Ardyn Izunia is involved, nothing ever seems to go as expected.”

Iris nodded. “You’re right,” she said, “I didn’t mean to freak out,” she apologized, suddenly regretting her emotional outburst. “I can’t just sit around here and wait, though.” Iris thought for a moment. “Come on, let’s at least go tell Monica and Dustin the good news. It wouldn’t be fair to keep it from them.”

Cor nodded, allowing Iris to pull him up from the couch and holstering his sword at his side. Iris followed suit with her own blade, pulling her boots on and holding the door open for her mentor before following him down the stairs and down the street to their friends’ home. 

The remaining former Crownsguard spent the evening waiting with bated breath for updates from either Gladio or Talcott. Iris texted the younger man and insisted that he take a photo of Noctis; Talcott replied with a message indicating that the king and his retinue had already departed for Insomnia, but that Prompto had his camera with him and been snapping pictures constantly since his reunion with his best friend. 

“I can’t imagine what they're going through,” Monica commented, rocking Adele against her shoulder. “But if anyone can do this, it’s Noctis. He’s been preparing for ten years, and he was already stronger than I had ever seen him while we were still in the Crown City.”

Dustin smiled at Cor. “Much better prepared than you were when you took on the Blademaster, wouldn't you say?”

Cor shook his head. “What a time to bring up ancient history, Dustin. I’d rather discuss what we’re going to do after Noctis brings the light back to the world.”

Iris crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at Cor. “You fought the Blademaster too? Gladdy said that no one from the Crown City had ever defeated him before he took him to task.”

“No one from the Crown City ever defeated him, but that doesn’t mean that no one ever gave it a valiant try during their more impulsive years,” Cor explained, a touch of chagrin in his voice, “A certain young member of the Crownsguard took him on unsuccessfully, but survived the fight - which can’t be said for most of the people that underwent the same trial.”

Iris nodded, an idea forming in her head. She glanced from Monica to Dustin to Cor before continuing resolutely. “Well, in that case, I know what I want to do when the light returns.” Monica covered her mouth with her hand as Iris declared, “I want you to take me to fight the Blademaster, like you did for Gladdy.”

“Absolutely not,” Cor replied immediately, and Iris bit her lip to keep herself from punching him; her nervous tension quickly turned to anger at his response. “It was dangerous to take Gladiolus, but it was something he needed to do as the future King’s Shield. You don’t have that burden on your shoulders.”

Iris groaned loudly. “You told me after our last hunt that I was nearly as strong as my brother was when he left Insomnia to accompany Noctis on his journey. I’m not going to let you treat me like I’m some kind of weak, stupid woman who needs your protection.” Her voice rose as she grew angrier with every word, and Adele awoke and began to cry. 

Dustin turned to his daughter and wife, and Cor quietly led Iris outside onto the balcony, pulling the full-length drape shut and closing the door behind them. “We’re all tense, Iris,” he said, rubbing his fingertips against the gray hair on his temples, “I apologize. My intention wasn’t to upset you. Gladiolus tells the story lightheartedly, but the Blademaster isn’t to be underestimated. Only a small percentage of the warriors that begin his trials make it far enough to face the Blademaster himself.”

Leaning over the balcony, Iris looked out at the electric lights bathing Lestallum. She tried hard to remember what the city looked like in natural light as she considered her response. “You don’t think I can do it, even though you trained me to be the warrior I am today?” Instead of his face, Iris focused on Cor’s hands, grasping the balcony rail tightly. 

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Cor said slowly, “You are one of the strongest women I’ve ever known, however, if something were to go wrong…” he turned towards her, “I’m being selfish, perhaps, but...I can’t risk losing you.”

Iris drew a sharp breath. While these were the words she had been waiting years to hear Cor say to her, she couldn’t divorce them from the current conversation. “I never let my feelings for you stop you from hunting. You told me yourself, years ago, that it wasn’t fair to put your life at risk while a woman waited for you at home. After you told me that story, I promised myself that I’d never let you feel that way about me, and I refuse to let it happen in reverse.” She turned to Cor, her eyes trained on his pensive expression. “I need something to focus on once the daemons aren’t a threat anymore…” Iris was thankful that she had worn her hair down that day so that Cor couldn’t see the flush creeping up her neck as she finished, “Something besides you.”

Cor swallowed, and the corner of his mouth crooked into a smile. “You’re as stubborn as your brother and your father before him.”

She started to ask him if this meant he would accompany her after all, but noise in the street below distracted both Iris and Cor from the conversation at hand. A small crowd had gathered outside of the buildings, the hubbub attracting more curious people as the clamor grew louder.

“What’s going on down there?” Iris said, instinctively moving her hand towards her sword. She glanced at Cor and saw that his hand was already wrapped tightly around the handle of his blade. 

Cor called from their second-floor balcony down to one of the junior hunters that he recognized in the crowd below. “Zechiar! Situation report!”

“Leonis!” The hunter responded, looking up, “Oh, and Amicitia! There are reports from the east of sunlight! One of the hunters returning from Hammerhead confirmed it! Look, off in the distance…!”

Iris and Cor glanced at each other incredulously. “Does that mean…” Iris started, and Cor continued, “...they did it…it’s over…”

The two hunters turned to face the same direction as the growing crowd, and a few moments later, they could see the darkness begin to recede between the buildings, like the dark clouds rolling away after a heavy thunderstorm. Rays of light broke through the cracks in the night sky, bathing the overcrowded city in a warm golden glow. 

So much time had passed since Iris had seen the sun that it took her vision a moment to adjust. She shaded her eyes with her hand, and her face stretched into a smile so big it hurt her cheeks as she slowly looked over her shoulder at the man who hadn’t left her side through ten years of darkness. Cor Leonis was just another Crownsguard legend ten years prior, but time had transformed him into her teacher, her partner, and perhaps someday her lover. A broad grin turned the small wrinkles at the corners of his blue eyes into long lines, and through the tears welling in her eyes, Iris could have sworn Cor’s eyes were damp as well.

Iris spun on her heel to meet Cor’s gaze face to face. Her heart overflowed with emotion as she stood on her toes and threw her arms around his neck as best as she could in spite of their height difference. A thousand words were on the tip of her tongue, but none could express her feelings as well as her lips pressing against his. Iris was sure that Cor would rebuff her advances, but after a moment of hesitation Cor lifted her up onto the balcony rail, his arms encircling her body and his mouth moving gently against hers. She closed her eyes, her head and body lighter than air as her knees aligned with either side of his hips to hold herself steady, and Iris braced herself against Cor as their kiss deepened, both completely oblivious to the cheering crowds in the streets and the balcony door opening behind them.

“Finally,” Monica said with a small laugh, and Iris opened her eyes to see Dustin and Monica with Adele cradled between them. Iris expected Cor to let her go as soon as their friends appeared behind them on the balcony; instead, he continued to hold her until she slid down to the ground, suddenly feeling slightly awkward at the intimacy of their position. Iris stood next to the man she loved, facing the rising sun once more, and his arm slipped around her shoulders and held her close. His hand gently closed around her upper arm, and she remembered a promise that she had made years ago.

“I’ll have to get my tattoo finished now,” Iris thought aloud, “Wonder if the flowers are blooming out there after all this time.”

Cor nodded. “I’d like to go with you and Gladio when you have it done,” he said.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” she replied. 

Iris couldn’t decide which was warmer: the sun beating down on her face, Cor’s body flush against her side, or the hope for the future that filled her heart. The reality that in this moment she had the choice between the three, however, was something she couldn't have come up with in her wildest dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As soon as I realized that all we were going to get from canon for the ten-year timeskip was a throwaway conversation with Talcott, I was disappointed; I was crushed when Talcott mentioned that Iris became a legendary badass that convinced Cor to fight daemons by her side in a post-apocalyptic setting and WE WEREN'T GOING TO SEE ANY OF IT.
> 
> So, the wheels started spinning and became this - my take on what happened to some of the background characters during those ten years. 
> 
> Anyway...uh, does anyone want an M/E epilogue? I have no specific intention of making this smutty but y'all just hit me with your thoughts on that (nervous laughter)
> 
> This pairing is absolutely one of my guilty pleasure ships, and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.


End file.
